


secundum legem (According to Law)

by Mossgreen



Series: 2770 ab urbe condita [14]
Category: 2770 ab urbe condita - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Judicial enslavement, Master/Slave, Non-Sexual Slavery, Original Character(s), Other, Roman justice, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 21:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15590634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossgreen/pseuds/Mossgreen
Summary: Roman law is notoriously harsh, as Ven discovers when his master takes him to court to witness the sentence carried out in a case Master has brought.





	secundum legem (According to Law)

**Author's Note:**

> When you have half-a-dozen story ideas, including bits of two different second chapters, and your muse decides to sleep in. Here's hoping mine wakes up soon.

"What are you thinking?"

Ven started. He had been thinking of... nothing very much. "I've never seen a judicial enslavement before, Master." He sighed, looking thoughtfully at his hand. "They take all ten fingerprints when you... when a slave is registered, Master, did you know that?"

"No. Why?"

"Because there's no telling what might happen. If you – if a slave – only gave a thumbprint and then scarred that thumb, they'd never be able to update their records. I wish..."

"What?"

"Nothing, Master, it's not important." He wasn't even sure what it was that he wished for – his freedom? A world without slavery? – despite the impossibility of such a world ever existing. Whatever it was, his wishes weren't important enough to state them so baldly.

Ven was still getting used to his new position and the responsibility entailed in it; he had had a crash course in how to use the computer, much aided by the fact that all systems with internet access automatically cross-referenced his fingerprint with the national slavery database and gave him only the simplest access. His master never hesitated to remind him that his primary duty was still to satisfy Master's lusts and he should not take this role as secretary as being his permanent position.

It meant kneeling beside Master in business meetings to take notes and make suggestions, via an app on the tablet he was permitted to use. For Ven, it was far preferable to being a cock-warmer; he could not do both at the same time. Master frequently made use of his arse or his mouth before a meeting began, or during breaks, simply to remind him of what he was – as if he was in any danger of forgetting that!

This morning was somewhat different. Ven trailed three paces behind his master, carrying Master's notes in a shoulder-bag, which was much lighter today than normal because they were heading to the basilica opposite Phallusy's headquarters and computers were not permitted in the law-courts.

The case had dragged on for weeks, although Master had overwhelming evidence of the man's guilt, so it was a foregone conclusion what would happen in the end. 

Ven stood behind his master in the huge marble hall and tried not to fidget as each side made their closing speeches, as much in the style of Cicero as they could. The courtroom fell silent as the senior magistrate rose. 

"The case against you has been proved, Titus Vibidius Piso. You are hereby stripped of your citizenship and sentenced to five years' servitude."

Two of the court's security guards (Ven supposed they would themselves have been slaves in times past) came forward to hold the erstwhile citizen while Ven's master went forward. Ven had somehow not expected to have a front-row seat to the action as his master forcibly tore the other's toga from him, symbolically removing his citizenship as he removed the sign of it. Another court assistant came forward with a tablet to take a record of the man's fingerprints, an act consigning him indisputably to the ranks of the Empire's slaves; nobody could access anything without giving a fingerprint, which was cross-checked through the vast Imperial database of slaves to determine what access, if any, they were permitted to have.

"Beats me why they don't use a retinal scan," Master said to Ven in an undertone, resuming his place. 

"Fingerprints are much easier to take without co-operation, Master," Ven pointed out equally quietly, though the thought had presumably been rhetorical.

Master turned to look at him. "You're not stupid at all. You were wasted as a house-slave."

"Thank you, Master," Ven replied, still watching the proceedings with the horrified fascination the spectators of the gladiatorial games must have felt in days gone by.

He had grown up a slave, and literally could not remember a time before he had been listed as somebody's property in the vast Imperial slave database. He knew others ended up in that same system for a variety of reasons, but he had never before had cause to witness the transition from free to slave.

The man was wearing his normal tunic beneath his toga, a knee-length garment in linen. Many slaves wore identical tunics, though many (like Ven and his compatriots in Master's household) wore much shorter tunics. It seemed the court was not going to be content to allow him the longer garment, and Ven could not bring himself to watch as his tunic was likewise stripped from him and he was given a much shorter, slave-length tunic to replace it with. At least, Ven thought, he was allowed to wear _something_. It would be little comfort to the man concerned, though, he was sure. 

"What is your pleasure with this slave, citizen?" the magistrate asked Master, who straightened, adjusting the fall of his own immaculate toga where it was draped over his left arm.

"Sell him," Master replied decisively. 

"It shall be done, and the proceeds transferred to your account."

Master bowed slightly. "Thank you for your decision today. Come, Ven."

The order was, needlessly, accompanied by an imperious snap of Master's fingers, loud in the sudden hush of the marble court-room. Ven assumed the position of an obedient, attentive slave and followed his master from the court, his eyes cast down respectfully, keeping a precise three paces behind him, tempering his stride to match his master's, aware that he was being used to demonstrate how it should be done (even if none of the free citizens were aware of the demonstration).

Rough justice, he thought, but Roman justice _was_ rough, and swift in its execution. The slave market, from the point of view of the merchandise, was not a place to relish being, but it would be a swift effective introduction to slavery. Some people never learned, as Ven had, how to be outwardly submissive and to rein in their thoughts, and keep their faces deferentially blank. He was beginning to let his tongue run away with him on occasion, though, and had to rein that in before he got into trouble over it – and surely it would not take much for him to get into trouble. He had been skirting very near it, of late.

It wasn't until they got into Master's office, with the door shut, that Ven plucked up enough courage to venture, “Master... may I ask a question?”

“You may.”

Ven didn't ask his question immediately, but concentrated on laying his master's tablet out precisely in front of his chair, its edge perfectly parallel to the edge of the desk, not particularly wishing to court danger, but unable to completely rein in his curiosity over what he had seen

“What will happen to his property, Master?”

“It depends, pet. In a criminal case, it could be confiscated by the state, but in a private case like this... most men appoint a trustee or trustees to oversee the administration of their affairs for the duration of their sentence, if they feel the case will go against them. A wife or husband may refuse the annulment of the marriage and will take responsibility without the need for a trustee to be appointed. You're awfully curious about it, pet.”

Ven knelt in his usual place beside his master's chair, his own tablet on the floor in front of him. “I know it happens that the courts can impose a sentence of slavery, Master. I had never actually witnessed it before – seen it done, I mean. And slaves can't own property unless their masters allow it, so I just wondered.”

“And now you know.”

Yes, Ven thought, now he knew. _fiat iūstitia, ruat caelum..._

**Author's Note:**

> Translation note: _fiat iūstitia, ruat caelum_ – let justice be done, though heaven falls.
> 
> I found the actual Latin phrase several days after posting this. _vindiciās ab lībertāte in servitūtem dare_ \- condemn a free person to slavery


End file.
